


Vitya after Dentist

by IncandescentAntelope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Character's name is spelled as Yuuri, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Fluff, Life in St. Petersburg, Light Angst (chapter 2), M/M, Supportive Katsuki Yuuri, dental work, post-dentist sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope
Summary: Viktor really hates going to the dentist.





	1. Vitya After Dentist

**Author's Note:**

> Title lifted from that video. You know which video.
> 
> (Rated T for mentions of wandering hands and a threat to withhold sex lol)

“ _No food or drink until the numbness wears off. And make sure he doesn't chew on his cheeks_.” The receptionist told him in rapid Russian, Yuuri taking a moment to fully comprehend her instructions. She wrote it all down for his benefit. He could muddle through with Google translate when they got back to the apartment. He had been living in Saint Petersburg for almost a year, but he still struggled with the language.

“ _Yes. I will._ ” He replied simply, cringing at the way his accent sounded in his fiance's language. Viktor giggled and leaned over his shoulder, pawing at the fair hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Ehehe, Yuuuuuuuuuuuuri, you thaid it in Ruthhian. You're tho thekthy when you thay things.” He sounded drunk. Or high. Or both. His big, dumb, adorable mouth was full of gauze. The hygienist had marvelled that she had never seen such sensitive gums before.

“ _How long will this last?_ ” He asked the woman slowly, focusing on the harsh consonants and trying not to pay attention to Viktor's wandering hands.

“ _Not much longer. A few hours at most._ ”

“Yuuuuuuuuuuuuri I wanna go hooooome.” Viktor whined as Yuuri signed the release forms. “My mouth hurths.”

“I know. But maybe you should have considered that before you refused to go to the dentist for three years. _Nine cavities. Honestly._ ” He grumbled the last bit in Japanese, sparing Viktor the agitated words. He finished the paperwork and thanked the receptionist. “Alright, sweet tooth. Let's go.”

“I told you, Yuuuuuuuuuuri, I don't like the dentitht.”

“And that's why they had to gas you. They told me you were threatening to sue the hygienist.” He pulled Viktor out of the office and into their car. The engine roared to life and Yuuri began driving, Viktor singing along with the radio, numb lips and all. Yuuri thanked past Yuuri for insisting he get his driver's license. It worked for times like this. And when he had to DD for the group when Chris and Masumi visited. Viktor was laughing and staring at his phone, probably watching the animal Vine compilations Yuuri had put in a playlist for him.

Yuuri loved seeing his Viktor like this. Silly and childlike. Unburdened by the stresses of being a living legend, the pressure of being an Olympic athlete. Watching videos of kittens playing with puppies, instead of obsessively watching and rewatching recordings of his practices, of old routines. He was just Vitya like this, giggling in the passenger seat. Not Viktor Nikiforov, Living Legend and Russia's Darling. Just Vitya. And Yuuri felt the same way, that when he was broken down or vulnerable, needing the simple comfort of touch, he was just Yuuri. Or Yuuratchka, or Yuura. Not Japan's Ace, Katsuki Yuuri. He wasn't even Viktor Nikiforov's fiance, Katsuki Yuuri. He was just Yuuri. And Viktor met him where he was, every time. His heart swelled at the warm thoughts. 

“You know, Vitya, if you brushed and flossed like a grown-up, then you might not hate the dentist so much.” Yuuri teased. “I like going. It's kind of soothing.”

Viktor looked at him like he had just suggested he eat yellow snow.

“But flothhing hurths, Yuuuuuuuri.” Yuuri could tell Viktor was getting tired. The excitement of the morning was finally catching up with him. He was starting to slur even more than he had been, the lisp becoming more and more pronounced. He bit back the urge to inform him that if he flossed every day it wouldn't hurt, but instead he took a hand in his and kissed the warm metal of his ring.

“Why don't you just sleep until we get home? Then we can take a bath and have lunch.” Yuuri suggested, watching as Viktor's eyelids drooped.

“Mmmmmkay. Promithe?” He mumbled, looked up at Yuuri with those gorgeous blue-green eyes, sleepy and adorable.

“I promise, Vitya. Rest. We have a bit of driving left.” He said gently, turning his eyes back to the road. The dentist Georgi recommended was lovely, clean and professional, as well as the added promise of confidentiality. The world didn't need to know about Viktor's vehement distaste for the dentist. The only issue was the drive. It was half an hour outside the city. Viktor had spent the entire trip there complaining and threatening Yuuri with unnecessarily difficult practices and revoking his ice time for a month, and Yuuri genuinely considered securing him in the trunk for cases like this. The idea was quickly tossed out when Viktor flashed him his best baby blues and apologized, pecking a small kiss on his cheek as reparation.

Loving Viktor wasn't always easy. He was loud and forgetful, impossibly stubborn and unpredictable. But he was Yuuri's entirely, and Yuuri was Viktor's. Until the very end. 

He stole careful glances at the man curling into himself in the passenger seat, long legs tucked to his chest in what looked like an incredibly uncomfortable position. Viktor's ability to fall asleep _literally anywhere_ never ceased to surprise Yuuri. The man could fall asleep bent over the couch. (Which he had actually done, once.) Yuuri watched the discomfort bleed from his face, his lips softening from a tight line into a soft curve of a smile as sleep took him.

He switched the radio to a soft classical station, turned up the volume a touch and relaxed into the leather of the seat. Viktor slept through the rest of their drive home, as Yuuri lost himself in crafting new ideas for the next season’s programs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of me getting the last of my ten (yep, 10.) cavities filled this morning, have this short lil fluffy drabble that I wrote in the waiting room. My mouth hurts too, Vitya. I might have accidentally given myself another cavity with all this sweetness.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Drop a kudos or a comment if you liked this sugary nonsense. <3 Check out my other work! As always, I love you all. and I hope you never have to get ten fillings in two weeks.
> 
> ❤️ IA ❤️  
> [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/IAtheAuthor)


	2. Vitya Before Dentist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months after his last appointment, Viktor is called back to the dentist to have a tooth pulled. He _really_ doesn't want to go. It's up to Yuuri to convince him.

_“Don't believe me? Just watch!”_

Bruno Mars’ voice and pop funk filled the rink as Viktor's phone heralded an incoming call.

 _“OI! VIKTOR! YOUR PHONE’S RINGING!”_ Yuri screamed in Russian across the ice, holding the familiar magenta case over the barrier. Viktor pulled out of his spin with a huffed breath, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. 

_“Who is it?”_ Viktor replied in his native language, which Yuuri had finally gotten familiar enough with to survive without Google translate or Viktor’s constant assistance when he tried to communicate with the general population of Saint Petersburg. Russian was more common than English during training, and Yuuri was slowly learning all of Yuri's biting insults in his first language, which somehow felt even meaner than their English counterparts.

Yuri groaned as he squinted at the screen, before biting out, _“Doctor Ivanoff!”_ Yuuri met eyes with his fiancé across the ice. 

“Yuuri… don't you dare…” Viktor warned. It took split second for the Japanese skater to make a dead sprint for the phone, risking a verbal berating from Yakov by making a hockey stop, spraying ice against the barrier. He snatched the phone from Yuri’s hand and answered the call, knowing for a fact that Viktor would have let the call drop.

 _“Hello, this is Katsuki Yuuri.”_ he said in his slow, careful Russian as Viktor skated up to his side like a kicked puppy. He recognized the voice of their dentist on the other end as he began explaining that something looked concerning on his recent x-rays, that Viktor might need to have a tooth pulled. A pang of anxiety settled ugly and heavy in his stomach and Viktor shrank around him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and leaning into listening range of the tinny phone speaker.

 _“Okay. When can he be seen?”_ Yuuri said slowly, reaching his free hand up to grasp Viktor’s, gently rubbing his fingers over the knobs of his knuckles. He could feel the slight tremble there, and it made his heart sink to his feet.

_“We would like to see him first thing in the morning, Mister Katsuki, if possible. We understand if his schedule does not allow for-”_

_“He will be there. Thank you.”_ Yuuri interrupted, not allowing for the older man to object. His arms tightened around his shoulders as Yuuri ended the call.

“What was that all about? Scared of the dentist, old man? Worried about your dentures or something?” Yuri laughed, his sharp tongue earning him a side eye that could have burned him to a crisp; Yuuri’s glare was hot and angry.

“Stop, Yuri. We all have fears.” Yuuri snapped, “Or are you really not afraid of anything?” The younger man shrank back with a grumbled apology that neither Yuuri nor Viktor really heard. Yuuri turned to his fiancé, a dark shadow fallen over his striking features. His eyes looked red and wet with tears, the heart-wrenching sight of a trembling lower lip.

“Yuuri… please don’t make me go.” Viktor whispered, his throat and jaw tight. 

“Vitya, you have to. It isn't going to get better unless you go.” Yuuri replied, reaching up to cup his cheek. The moment his fingers brushed the right curve of his jaw, the Russian winced, and Yuuri’s hand dropped away. “Why didn’t you say something?” he asked softly, resting his hand on his shoulder instead. 

“You know why I didn’t say something.” Viktor replied simply, coldly, casting his eyes to his skates and pulling away from his touch. Yuuri had learned about his fiancé's hatred for the dentist at his last appointment, his almost childlike petulance led him to believe it was something more akin to annoyance than genuine fear. But when he continued to shirk Yuuri’s requests to let him schedule a cleaning, and a recent push of brushing and flossing more than usual… and a slight mumble to keep his jaw from moving too much… He should have known. Yuuri realized that it went a bit deeper than simple annoyance. 

“Vitya, are you in pain?” Yuuri asked, narrowing amber eyes at the hooded ceruleans above him, still carefully trained on his feet. Viktor remained silent, kicking his toe pick into the ice. “Vitya, are you in pain?” Yuuri repeated, surer that time, setting the phone down on the barrier and brushing silver fringe away from his love’s eyes. “Look at me, please.” Viktor lifted his chin, his lip trembling as a tear rolled down his cheek. “Are. You. In pain?” He nodded.

“It hurts so much, Yuuri.” he said quietly, a small, broken sound that sank like a rock in the pit of his stomach. 

“I'm so sorry, love.” Yuuri murmured, taking Viktor's right hand in his and pressing the gold of his ring to his lips. “Thank you for telling me. We're a team, Vitya. All I need you to do is talk to me.” He leaned up to press a kiss on his left cheek, carefully avoiding the tenderness of his jaw. “Yuri, can you get us some ice, please?” Yuuri called to the younger man, who nodded and took off. 

They both stepped off the ice and sat on one of the benches scattered around the rink, Yuuri murmuring softly about something cute that Makkachin did the other day, showing Viktor video after video of their poodle. He pressed the bag of ice to his cheek as he apologized to Yakov, ending practice early and heading home. 

Yuuri filled the rest of their day with his fiancé's favorite distractions- a long soak in the bath, takeout dinner and curling up together on the couch with Makkachin for a movie. 

Yuuri called in a few favors and obtained some _potent_ painkillers from his new rinkmates and watched his fiancé melt from a trembling, anxious mess to a soft, unworried Vitya. He smiled at the easy way Viktor laughed, a bag of ice held to his cheek as they rewatched _Finding Nemo_ for the what felt like the millionth time. Yuuri couldn't help but pull out his phone and snap a few photos of those moony eyes fawn over the animated fish. 

Yuuri laughed as he flipped through the new photos, and when he put his phone down, he saw it. Viktor was crying. Again. The younger man hurried to brush away the tears and comfort him. 

“Yuuri… I'm scared.” Viktor admitted, his usually broad and confident frame hunched and small on the cushion beside him.

“I know you are.” Yuuri replied softly, opening his arms in an invitation to lean on him. “I know you're scared. You have every right to be afraid.” He ran his fingers through the short hair at the back of Viktor's neck as he cried. 

“I don't want to go. I hate it, I hate it so much. It hurts and they don't listen when you tell them it hurts and- _ACK!_ ” he grimaced, his voice failing as another pained cry fell from his lips, clutching his jaw. It broke Yuuri's heart to see him like this, his usually cool and collected fiancé reduced to tears by pain and fear.

“Viktor, do you want to talk about why you don't like the dentist?” Yuuri had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with a bad experience, and he was right. Viktor opened up the floodgates, which Yuuri really hadn't been expecting. He thought he might get the teary cold shoulder again, that the Russian would dig his heels in and refuse to answer. But Viktor told him about everything, about the last time he had gotten a tooth pulled, that the hygienist hadn't given him enough anaesthetic. He hadn't been back since, until Yuuri insisted he see someone a few months ago. 

“Thank you for telling me all that, _lyubov moya_.” Yuuri whispered the Russian endearment to his teary-eyed fiancé, who had curled into Yuuri’s chest as they talked, the older man finding comfort in the constant thud of his heartbeat. “I understand why you’re afraid. I’ll never judge you for your fears, just like you don’t judge me for mine.” (It was true, Viktor never made Yuuri feel lesser than for his anxiety and he wanted to duplicate that generosity for him.) 

“Are you really going to make me go?” Viktor said softly, a shred of fear still lingering in his voice.

“Yes.” Yuuri said, with a resolve in his voice that he hoped smooth all the anxious energy out of him, like a warm iron pressing away wrinkles. The Russian grimaced, Yuuri pressing his forehead against Viktor’s, the way he had so many times before. “I know you can do it. You’re Viktor Nikiforov. You’re my Vitya. And my Vitya is brave and I believe in you. You’re strong despite your fear. And I'll be there with you, every step of the way. I'll hold your hand and make sure everything goes well.”

“You promise?” Viktor replied, tight lipped, his eyes flashing with all the chill and bite of ice.

“I promise, Vitya. I'll always stay by your side.” Yuuri returned with a small smile and a kiss to his fiancé's forehead.

“Swear it on your skates, Katsuki Yuuri.” Viktor demanded, pulling up and out of Yuuri's arms, sitting facing him on the couch. His eyes burned into Yuuri's like a challenge. A dare.

“I swear on my skates, on my medals, on my love for you, on everything I have, Viktor. I'll be right there.” Yuuri pressed his right hand into Viktor's, lacing their fingers together until their rings touched. He felt it then, that Viktor’s hands had stilled, his breath had evened. He released the breath he didn’t know he was holding, a heavy thing that sat on his chest like a ton of bricks. 

Of course, Viktor was back to his ornery dentist-hating self in the morning, Yuuri dragging him out of bed and into the car with the threat of no sex for a week. It felt backhanded, stooping to threats, but it made Viktor stop frowning and the tiniest hint of an upturned lip proved worth the risk. Yuuri held fast to Viktor’s hand while he sat in the chair, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles as the dentist explained everything to him and assured him that he would, in fact, make sure he was numb enough. He had gripped his hand so tightly that it felt like his bones might break, but Yuuri knew it would absolutely be worth the pain. 

A few hours later, a tub of yogurt in his lap and a giggly, one-tooth-less fiancé humming around the spoon as Yuuri fed him, the Japanese skater laughed quietly to himself. He loved seeing him like this. And he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life tending to his stubborn-headed, unreasonable, never-a-dull-moment fiancé. 

“Thank you, Yuuri.” Viktor mumbled, his words garbled as he fought against numb lips and tried to speak around the spoon in his mouth.

“Of course, Vitya.” Yuuri said in reply. _’Forever.’_ He replied without words, the promise of it deep in his eyes… a promise Viktor returned with bright ceruleans sparkling back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a kudos if you enjoyed, say hi in the comments! Check out my other work!
> 
> ❤️ IA ❤️  
> [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/IAtheAuthor)


End file.
